Why Milk?
by IdrianWatzon
Summary: Train's strange attachment to milk has Eve wondering left and right. She just doesn't understand why.


**Why Milk?**

Train was a milk fanatic.

All day, every day, he was seen with a bottle of milk in one hand and a can opener in the other. He always seemed to be chugging away at the thick, snowy liquid, and Eve couldn't understand why. When he drank it, she found herself wondering about his strange love for something so simplistic.

She herself had tried it a few times, and to be truthful, she wasn't all that fond of it. It had a strange sour taste about it, one she couldn't place her finger on.

But the odd attachment Train felt for the drink had Eve thinking about reasons left and right, and none seemed to be the correct guess. It had grown to be so frustrating for her that one day, she just had to ask.

"Why do you like milk so much?"

Stopping mid-chug, Train lowered the glass and peered at Eve carefully, "What's it to you?" He asked suspiciously as he stared down at her.

"I just don't understand," Eve explained carefully. She didn't want him to know how curious she actually was on the subject.

Train frowned and seemed to ponder the question a moment. When he came up with an answer, he grinned, "I just do."

He began to drink again.

Eve wanted to strangle him for not giving her a straight answer.

"But you must have a reason," she urged. "Why else would you drink it so much?"

Train shrugged, the milk top still near his mouth.

With a sigh, Eve clasped her hands together, clearly more frustrated than before she had asked the question.

Train cleared the last remains in the glass.

"I don't understand," Eve found herself commenting. She stared as he chucked the empty glass and reached for another, "It shouldn't be healthy for someone to drink so much of something so completely disgusting."

The Black Cat grinned and popped the lid expertly.

"I don't find it disgusting," he held the full container high for her to see. "In fact, great things come from drinking it."

Eve frowned, but found herself leaning forward, "How so?" She asked cautiously, eyeing the liquid with squinted eyes.

He shrugged, "I dunno. You have to drink it to find out."

She huffed and sat back, grasping the nearest novel beside her angrily.

Train smirked and seemed to think something over a moment. When the answer came, he held the glass higher, "Actually. Now that I think about it, I started learning things faster after a good cup of milk. My aim grew perfect, and eventually I started drinking it all the time. Maybe that's why I'm so darn good."

Eve opened the thick book and proceeded to skim past the words quickly. She didn't want him to notice her sudden, racing need for a drink of the disgusting slop that seemed to give him superpowers.

"Hey, princess, I bet you'd get something nice if you drank a cup," Train supplied cheerfully.

She pretended to ignore him.

"How about I pour you some, since you seem so interested?"

"I'm not interested!" She blurted, slamming the book down suddenly. She hopped to her feet and pointed at him piercingly, "You're trying to trick me, you evil, evil person!"

The accused waved a hand carelessly and grasped a cup from a cabinet. He filled it to the brim with milk, and he held it out to her.

Eve swallowed the sudden lump that had formed in her throat and shook her head, "No!"

Train pouted, "But after all the trouble I went through to pour you such a nice glass. . . Are you really so cruel as to refuse me? I'm _hurt_."

Eve knew he was pulling an act on her. She knew he didn't really care. But for some strange reason, she was pulled to try the glass. Her hand moved almost automatically towards the cup. Her lips trembled as she brought it closer to her mouth. She stopped breathing.

"Any time now," Train muttered, inspecting a strand of hair on the counter.

She began to gulp the liquid, flinching at the horrible taste that covered her tongue. But she kept drinking, not stopping until the last drop had been swallowed. She set the cup on the counter and held her head. The taste was too disgusting for her to handle.

How on earth had she managed a full glass of it?

"Wow, princess. I'm surprised. You did well," Train patted her on the shoulder happily. She swayed violently.

She would never again drink milk. Not ever. It was too much. She blanched, sticking her tongue out in hopes for a better taste.

"You okay?" Train held her up by her arm, suddenly alarmed by her woozy state. He helped her to the couch.

Eve glared up at him as best as she could, "You trickster. Now I'm going to catch some horrible disease and die."

Train laughed.

"Milk must be the most awful thing in the world," she continued, rubbing her cheeks. "And I certainly don't see any great things happening to me."

He scrunched his eyebrows together and actually looked intelligent for a moment.

"I know!" Train burst out, grinning evilly at Eve.

He leaned down and brought his face close to hers, "Wanna know what's about to happen?" He peered at her, his gaze holding her still.

When she didn't answer, he simply leaned forward and kissed her right on the lips. She gasped against his mouth, surprised to find it softer than expected. And then she noticed the milky taste.

Disgusted, she shoved him away.

Train pouted, "I thought it would be a great thing. . ." He mumbled.

"You taste like milk!" She cried, wiping at her lips frantically.

Train laughed, "But was it good otherwise?"

She found her cheeks flame, and she grabbed her book again, ignoring her need to rinse her mouth of the awful taste.

Train chuckled and patted her on the head, "You okay, princess? Not too shocked, are you?"

She buried her face in the pages of the book, too embarrassed to reply.

Eve would never admit to him that she had actually enjoyed the so-called kiss.


End file.
